The Story of Ben
by kamikumai
Summary: At the age of 17 years, Ben Braden loses his mother. What he discovers upon this event is that he not only inherited a house, but a name: Winchester.


**Word from the Author: **This was... more or less a little thought experiment that... Would. Not. Leave. Me. Alone. And so it got itself written, and here it is. Pure speculation of what became of Ben, Dean's alleged not-kid.

**Disclaimer: **S'not mine. Nuh-uh.

* * *

**The Story of Ben**

* * *

At the age of 17 years, Ben Braden loses his mother. What he discovers upon this event is that he not only inherited a house, but a name: Winchester. That's all that his mother left him of his father; a name… and apparently a trade.

For years Ben has taken martial arts classes, boxing, archery, marksmanship, participated in marathons and orienteering competitions, among other things. He's got medals and trophies and ribbons for his efforts, all neatly lined up within a glass cabinet in their living room. His mother had honestly never seemed overly concerned with his grades, instead getting him to focus on as many extracurricular activities as he wanted, which had been most of them, ranging from sport, to art, to the science club. He had actually been made president. And despite the fact that she never demanded that he study, like all his friends' mums seemed to do, forever nagging, pestering, cajoling, he still made good grades. At worse Bs, when he didn't try at all.

He'd thought her infatuation with physical exertion on his behalf had been some sort of health craze; she'd always been big on keeping healthy, fit, in shape. He'd started with her yoga classes before anything else.

It is only now that he realizes how everything is connected. That the man he'd met on his eighth birthday, the man who had saved his life, had in fact been his father, and that saving people was apparently what his father did for a living. He also realizes that it was shortly after his kidnapping that his mother had enrolled him in his first T'ai Chi course, which was shortly followed by Aikido, Tae Kwon Do and Jujitsu.

When he was 12, he attended a survival camp, the purpose of which was supposedly to help him appreciate just how lucky he was to have all the comforts of the material world that he did. A lot of the other boys his age, and older, had complained about it, that it was stupid, and that it wasn't like it would change anything.

While it certainly seemed to be true for them, it wasn't so for Ben. He had _loved_ it, being outside, at night, campfires, wilderness, the potential threat of rabid bears. It had been too cool for words. It probably helped that any of the tasks they were set, he had no problems completing and somehow managed to do so far quicker than anyone else too – it had certainly made him popular when it came to choosing teams.

Every year since then until he turned 16 and was no longer within the age limits to go, he spent his summer at the camp. None of the faces from each of the years before the last were ever familiar. From what Ben could tell, he was the only one who had ever come back. And of his own free will, at that. They'd even paid him those last couple of years, to help out with setting up tasks and organizing events.

Looking back, it's quite obvious that his mother wanted him to be able to survive under rough conditions. It's also thanks to her that he can.

It's only now that he knows the truth about his father that he realizes his calling in life. Never before had he been able to envision what path his life would take, or where his journey would lead him. For the most part, especially at career counseling events, he never could quite find the words to express what it was he thought he should've been doing with himself.

It's true that once upon a time he had dreamed of becoming a cop, or a detective, to help solve crimes and mysteries, to get the bad guys and bring justice to those who'd been wronged. But it had never seemed quite right. It had never seemed like it was enough.

At last, he understands that which he has always known, but also that which he'd never been able to explain – that he had been born to the Hunt. Hell, he's the _third_ generation in a line of Hunters. In the short while that he's known the truth of this, he's been able to get in contact with several people who at least knew of the Winchesters.

John Winchester, deceased. Dean Winchester, deceased, as of two or so years _before_ Ben met him for the very first time. Ben assumes that the body must have been someone else, maybe even some_thing_ else, and not his father. It's the only logical explanation. And unlike police, he at least is aware that a lot of things of myth and legend aren't nearly as distant as they're portrayed as being – that sometimes they get too close for comfort.

Still, word on the streets has it that both Dean and his brother Sam are still alive, even though there've been no sightings of either of them for at least a year, if not longer. There have also been rumors that Sam Winchester now plays for the dark side, but whether this is true or not remains unconfirmed.

Ben is determined to find them. And as far as first Hunts go, he figures it's a pretty damn good way to start.

But more than that, what Ben wants is to know his father, to learn from him, from the best, whatever he and Sam are willing to teach him.

He only hopes that once he finds them, he'll make them proud.

* * *

Finis.

* * *

**Another Word from the Author: **So, yeah... That's it. Well, let me know what you thought, huh?

Until next time...!


End file.
